


Strong minds, Weak hearts

by ASOUEfan



Category: A Series of Unfortunate Events (TV), A Series of Unfortunate Events - Lemony Snicket
Genre: But it Feels So Good, But she doesnt, Consensual, Denial of Feelings, F/M, First Time, Gratuitous Smut, It just sorta happened in Ch3, Knifeplay, Light D/s but thats just Olaf ;), Mildly Dubious Consent, Minor Violence, Mutual Masturbation, Not What It Looks Like, Sex Education, Sex is fun!, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Violet really wants to, not so much cleaning duty this time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-18
Updated: 2019-04-03
Packaged: 2019-11-23 16:06:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 7
Words: 20,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18154046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ASOUEfan/pseuds/ASOUEfan
Summary: Follow up fic to Selfish Deeds, Selfless Acts; by request.Violet struggles with how she feels about what happened between her and Count Olaf. He gets frustrated when he realises its not a free ticket, she's still the stubborn demanding Orphan she was before. Violet is determined not to let him get in her head.Trouble is, he's already there and she can't keep away.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Only a shortish one, but I figured you guys wouldnt want to wait around, ha ;)

Link to Part 1 - Selfish Deeds, Selfless Acts [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18020270/chapters/42576626).

\----

Violet woke to the sound of birds outside Count Olaf’s bedroom window. For a moment she forgot where it was she was waking up, hearing only the birds and wondering if one had already made use of her bird box. For this momentary forgetfulness, she felt good. Her body ached a little, as though she had played a long session of tennis the day before, as she used to do with her father on the weekends. But that second passed and she was left with the closer memory of what happened last night, and the man lying next to her. She glanced over her shoulder, wondering if he was there. The bed was still warm as if he was, but he was not holding her as when they fell asleep together. 

She found Count Olaf propped up in bed, relaxed against the many pillows with a faded book in his hand. She found this altogether puzzling; not just the being beside her Guardian, her _captor,_ when she awoke, but to find him reading quite contently next to her. Had he let her sleep in? It almost felt like a kindness he would not reward her. “Good morning my sweet,” He murmured, flipping the page in his book without looking at her. 

Violet shifted herself up a little, sitting up slowly while pulling the covers up over her waist. It was easy to forget while in bed, how delicate the camisole nightdress was. She looked down and adjusted the central ‘V’ portion over her chest making sure everything was adequately covered up. “You’re still here,” she said slowly, staring at him in confusion. The sky looked bright through Olaf’s scraggy curtains. What time was it? 

“I have been waiting for my loyal Orphan to make my breakfast,” He explained, using his thumb to keep the page as he turned to look at her finally with a pointed expression. Was he not going to mention what happened during the night? It had been a profound moment for her, and his lack of acknowledgement of it made her feel, well she was unsure _what_ to feel. 

She had enjoyed it, the feelings he created in her. There had not been anything in her life like it, and she had to wonder what the key to it was. Did it feel like that with everyone? Or was it him? She had no clue, and no way to test the theory. “I’m not _your_ Orphan.” 

Olaf chuckled darkly, closing the book over his thumb and leaving it to the side of the bed as he shifted down a little, reaching his now free hand to pull himself over to her. “You were last night,” He smirked, pushing his hand under the bed covers and following her thigh up to where they met, skirting under her nightdress. 

“What are you doing!” Violet yelped, leaping as far away across the bed as she could without falling out the side of it. His boldness surprised her, moving without invitation to move his touch between her legs and play their game again. She swallowed down the arousal he ignited inside her, clutching the bedcovers tightly over herself. “Don’t do that.” 

Olaf scoffed, leaning and lying on his side, his now directionless hand resting on the bed. “You’ve changed your tune.” He frowned at her reluctance. “Last night it was all _please, please Olaf touch me, do it, give it to me_ -“ He sounded in a high pitched feminine voice, mocking her. 

Her cheeks flared red. She wanted to press her eyes shut and pretend it hadn’t happened, for the bright light of day brought with it the realisation of what she had done. He had taken her virginity, _or had he_? Did it count if he didn't - Violets mind filled with imaginings of what it might feel like, and the burning became too much. “I don't sound like that,” Was about all she could come up with, trying to argue for the sake of it. Would it save her dignity? He hadn’t so much taken her virginity as her _offering it_ to him. No, the deed was done now and he had been right after all, she couldn't take it back. She’d wanted it, and had to live with that. 

“Well if you’re not going to open your legs, you can make my breakfast and bring it to me here,” He ordered her in a disappointed sort of fashion, sitting back up to retrieve his book. “ _You,_ not that four eyed brother of yours,” He clarified, watching as she got herself out of bed and looking for her dress. He threw his weight across the bed, smacking her ass with the book and laughed, mean-spirited. 

She jumped and glared at him, holding her fingers down the back of the nightdress again to keep herself covered as she went to the bathroom, remembering it was in there. “Fine.” 

 

——

 

Violet was glad to be out of Count Olaf’s bedroom, but even more glad when she smelt that breakfast was already being cooked. She hurried down the stairs, her feet almost running as she made it to the kitchen. “Klaus!” She exclaimed, rushing to her brother and throwing herself into a hug from behind. 

He smile beamed sincerely, practically tackled to one side by her hug. He abandoned the oatmeal and turned to hug her back, thankful to see her. “Violet, is everything alright? What happened? Did he make you - did he let you go? Sunny and I were so worried.”

Violet slipped from his arms to pick her sister up from the counter and clutch the infant to her hip in that maternal way she always did. “Nothing happened,” She lied, playing with the little rattle Sunny had fashioned for herself from a wooden spoon. She looked at Klaus with a passive receptive expression. She had to lie, and felt awful for it, but it was still the noble thing to do. She had to protect her brother, no matter what. “Really. He gave me a nightdress to put on for bed, and he was asleep quite quickly.” 

Klaus pushed his glasses up his nose thoughtfully. “I don’t understand - all that talk of …, unsavoury things and he just went to sleep?” The smell of burning oatmeal reminded him to keep stirring, and testing whether the milk was done by touching the spoon to his mouth. 

“Yes,” She laughed, rubbing his arm reassuringly. “It was just a game. Another stupid game to torment us. He wanted to humiliate me and hurt you, and divide us.” She said it with such surety, that there would be no doubt in his mind. She sucked her lips in, biting them in her mouth to distract herself from what she was really feeling, the throbbing between her legs that hadn’t gone away. She at least had her underwear back on, though none of their clothes had been washed it felt better all the same. She resolved to sort out their clothing situation, it had been weeks and they had worn the same outfits day and night, save for when they tried to soak them in the grimy bathroom sink by their attic room. 

“I’m really, very glad nothing bad happened. I don't know what I would do,” Her brother admitted quietly. Klaus was not prone to fits of violence, or strong emotion in general. It took a lot for him to admit how much he hated living with Count Olaf, and had felt better when Violet agreed. It didn't change their situation however, even if saying out loud was somehow cathartic. 

“Lak!” Sunny explained, biting her teether toy descriptively. 

The siblings laughed. “Yes Sunny I would probably bite his ankles too,” Klaus agreed with a smile. 

Violet set the infant down on the kitchen side, fetching some bowls from the cupboard as Klaus took their breakfast off the stove. “Speaking of, we need to get some things for Sunny.” 

“You’re right, but how? We don't have any money,” Klaus replied, ladling generous portions into the four bowls. Violet set about cutting up some fruit from the fridge, strawberries, raspberries and mango; laying it out on a plate and organising it all on a tray for Count Olaf. 

She shouldn’t be taking so much care and effort over it, Klaus thought to himself. 

Violet made sure to leave some extra for Sunnys portion, knowing her sister was a fan of the red fruits. “We could ask Justice Strauss? I’m sure she wouldn’t mind fetching some extra things with her shopping?” 

“That might solve it this time, but what about next time? Who knows how long we have to stay here. We cant expect Justice Strauss to buy nappies and formula for her all the time,” Klaus sighed, turning off the stove. 

Violet knew there was only one thing she could do. “We’ll have to ask Count Olaf.” 

Klaus shook his head, helping his younger sister to eat her oatmeal with a small spoon. She snatched it off him to do it himself and he chuckled. “He’d never agree to spend money on superfluous things.”

“But they’re not superfluous. She's a baby, she needs things more than we do,” Violet protested, scattering a small portion of brown sugar onto her own oatmeal, and wondering how Olaf took his. She filled a little bowl with brown sugar and put that on his tray too. 

“And we’re running out of curtain to use as nappies.”

Violet nodded with a sad smile. “Exactly. We’ve exhausted what little resources we had.” She resolved do whatever it took to keep her siblings as comfortable as possible. “I’ll ask him now when I take his breakfast up.”

Klaus put his hands on the handles of the tray Violet her arranged, giving her a look. “We’ll all go. I don't want you alone with him,” He said protectively, unaware of how little he had to worry about. 

Violet took the tray back, feeling strangely possessive of it. She hadn’t so much as, warmed to Olaf after their night together, but wanted keep him happy so she could _perhaps_ , feel that again. She was so torn, how she felt about it, but now was not the time for pondering. “He was clear he only wanted me to return with his breakfast. It’ll be fine Klaus.”

“No. Last night was one thing, but its done now. We’re staying together,” He said more firmly. She might be the oldest but he didn't want her taking unnecessary risks for him. She had already been singled out by Count Olaf and he didn't want to give their so-called Guardian any more opportunities to be cruel. 

Violet knew arguing anymore would raise suspicion, so agreed. “Okay.” 

As they finished their oatmeal together in relative quiet, Sunny and Klaus seemingly in a content version of quiet now they had all been reunited, Violets thoughts drifted. What would he do when they took his breakfast up, and she at least _appeared,_ to directly disobey him? That Klaus came up when he specifically said _you, not that four-eyed brother of yours._ Would he rescind his promise to keep their liaison a secret? Would he just get angry, lash out like he had at Klaus previously? Violet chewed her oatmeal anxiously.

 


	2. Chapter 2

 

Violet climbed the stairs carrying Sunny on her hip, a mild dread filling her bones the nearer they got to Count Olaf’s bedroom. It had so far been known to only her, and wondered if Klaus being there would be strangely invasive; she had cleaned and tidied it, spent the night there, had her first sexual experience there - she bit her lip and pushed the thought from her mind. No, it was just a bedroom. Nothing special. 

She knocked briefly and pushed the door open, Klaus stepping through the doorway beside her with the tray of breakfast she had prepared. She clutched Sunny a little tighter, not wanting to meet his eyes. 

“Whats this?” Count Olaf snarled, moving out from under the covers and swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. He pulled his arms into a worn looking bed-robe and tied it loosely around his middle. 

Klaus placed the tray on the end of the bed with a purposeful air, trying his best to appear confident. “We brought your breakfast, like you wanted.”

Olaf stared at it, and pulled a mock disgusted face. “No, I asked _her_ to bring my breakfast, not you.” He peered at Violet with condescension, wondering where she got off refusing to comply with his requests so flagrantly. He kept his eyes on her, waiting for her to have confidence enough to look up. He huffed, _look at her._ Holding the baby, staring away, pretending like everything was normal. Hiding behind her brother as though the brat could shield her from anything, much less her own desires. “I require an apology from you, _Violet,_ for disobeying my orders,” He hissed, prowling slowly round the bed. 

Stepping back to stand in line with his siblings, Klaus replied in a dismissive and analytical fashion. “You’ll receive nothing of the sort, for the difference is elementary. You have your breakfast now and I assume we have chores to be getting on with.” 

“Doth mine ears deceive me? I said I want an apology,” Count Olaf repeated, his voice raising in volume. “And if I want an apology I’ll damn well get one!” He yelled at them, picking up the bowl of oatmeal by the base and lobbing it across the room at Violet, who shrieked and jumped out of the way curling Sunny into her chest, shielding the infant with her body and arm. The bowl hit the floor with a crash, smashing and spilling the globulous meal over the carpet. 

“Why did you do that?!” Klaus shook his head at Olaf, yet again appalled at his erratic and unpredictable behaviour. “There was no need!”

“Take her,” Violet uttered quickly, passing Sunny over to her younger brother. She crouched down and picked up the pieces of broken bowl in her palm, fear and adrenaline making her hands shake. 

Count Olaf’s chest heaved angrily, _the gall of her,_ begging him for attention in the night, moving to his touch like an instrument he could play; yet now thinking she could take liberties with him and _choose_ to carry out his instruction or not? That was not how the game was played. She was meant to become _more_ dutiful, not less. 

Violet pinched the last few splinters of china from the carpet and stood slowly, walking over to the bed and depositing them in the empty space where the bowl once stood. She brushed her palms together slowly, feeling his eyes on her, barely a metre away. “I’m sorry,” She said, her mouth dry. 

He ground his teeth, the corner of his lip flickering menacingly. That was not good enough. He reached out and took her chin aggressively in his thumb and forefinger, bringing her up to look at him with a whine. “Again,” He said huskily, his eyes locked with hers, feeling how she trembled in his hand. His chest swelled with pride.

“Let her go!” Klaus protested. 

Violet held his gaze firmly, balling her fists at her side. For a moment she didn't say anything, she wanted to wrench away and tell him he could stick his apology, that he was a terrible person and had ruined the breakfast she had so neatly prepared. _That_ was what hurt, not his tactile punishments now. “I’m sorry for disobeying you,” She breathed quietly. 

She was forced to clench her thighs, her core tingling unexpectedly. She dug her nails hard into her palm. _Why would that happen_? Why would those words cause such a reaction, when he was trying to subdue and shame her?

She needed to stay far away from this man. 

Count Olaf nodded, seemingly pleased enough with her effort though his stern expression did not change. “Better.” Letting her chin go, he returned his hands to the pockets of his bed-robe. 

Violet scampered from the end of the bed as soon as she was released. “We need to ask about Sunny -“ murmuring to her brother before he turned to leave. Her cheeks burned and she didn't want to show Olaf how she felt, this mix of anger, reprobation and hurt. She wanted to cry. They were here stuck living in this house, having to scheme and plot to simply get the necessities needed to live, and somehow he had raised something in her that as a young woman she had yet had chance to experience. Why him? Why now, and not that literate well-spoken teacher she had had at school last summer? Why not the boy who passed her notes in maths class with witty algebra jokes. He had had nice eyes. 

Klaus pushed his jumper sleeves up to his elbow, changing Sunny onto his other hip. He wouldn’t stand for this maltreatment; certainly after seeing how the Count felt he could take such liberties with his older sister, his resolve hardened to do what was right by his younger sibling too. “My sister’s right. We need some things for Sunny. Nappies, formula and so forth. A change of clothes. Most things we can make do with; such as regular meals blended up. But she’s an infant, theres things we need to take care of her,” Klaus said, presenting his case in strong legal fashion. He was so sure that the right argument would yield the required results, even with an unreasonable man like Count Olaf. He wanted to bring a bit of normality and stability to the conversation. 

Olaf snorted, picking at the plate of fruit idly. “What makes you Orphans think I would give you anything? I already have to feed you,” He snapped dismissively. Their behaviour had put him in a bad mood initially, though she had redeemed herself a little by way of her apology.

“You’re our Guardian. Its your responsibility,” Klaus reminded him. This was not a difficult thing to accomplish, to provide the basics needed to care for a baby. And as intelligent as Sunny was, she was still a baby.   

Olaf popped a raspberry in his mouth. “That brat is _not_ my responsibility, she's yours.” 

“We’re not asking for help, just some money. We’ll go to the shops ourselves, buy what we need and only what we really need,” Violet intervened. She had recovered enough to look him in the eye again, drawing his disdainful glare from Klaus to her, especially seeing as her brother wasn’t getting anywhere with their demands.

“You have an enormous fortune of your own to spend, if I recall,” Olaf sneered witheringly. 

Klaus rolled his eyes at this much used moot point. “We can’t access that money until Violet comes of age. Mr Poe said - “

“We’ll pay you back,” Violet cut in, quickening glancing at her brother and stepping forwards. 

Count Olaf frowned his one eyebrow into a confused expression. “Come again?” 

Violet took a deep breath. “Anything you have to spend on us, write down. When I have access to our parents money I’ll repay you,” She explained more clearly, setting out what she thought was actually a reasonable and fair proposal. Surely their parents fortune would easily cover whatever he might spend in the intervening time, and the idea might make him soften to the idea of giving them the basics now. 

“Why would I trust some whiny Orphans.” He dismissed the idea sticking his fingers into shards of strawberry like a child, one by one biting the chunks off each finger with an amused grin. “You’d probably alter the ledger or replace it with a blank one.”

Klaus tugged his sisters arm, pulling her attention momentarily. “Violet do you really want to promise him money? He could go wild spending goodness knows what and we’d be indebted to pay for it,” He whispered urgently, darting his eyes to Olaf distrustfully. 

Violet shook him off and walked slowly towards Olaf, who remained standing next to the bed. “Just think about it. In a few years, you’ll receive a lump sum covering all the costs you’ve incurred looking after us.”

 He didn't bother looking at her, just pulled a bored face continuing to eat the fruit with his fingers. “No.”

Violet took a quick breath as she came up with a idea. “We need these things for Sunny. And Klaus and I need clothes. Nightwear. _Underwear,_ ” She finished quietly, her heart hammering as she tried her new tactic. She took half a step closer to him, pushing into his field of vision. She wouldn't let him ignore this. It wasn’t the first necessity but it was one she was lacking in; one he had so aggressively taken from her the day before, only to let her have it back this morning as though they meant nothing. His prize was clearly worthless once he had discovered what was underneath. 

Count Olaf grunted, though finishing the last of the raspberries he glanced down to her, recognising what she was trying to do. He considered this for a moment, tilting his head and letting his eyes travel over her remembering the fun he had had. _She,_ had had. Perhaps. 

“Please,” She said softly, almost a whine as she touched a tentative hand to his arm. This wasn’t a good idea, but she had resolved to do whatever she had to. If he showed such attentiveness to her last night, she knew he could read her body language. She could speak to him without the words, entice him and play with those sides of her sexuality she was only just uncovering. She had seen women do it before; using their wiles, laughing that men were weak and easily fooled. Even in her inexperience she knew she was a quick learner and he was not the brightest of men, she hoped. She implored him silently with big doe eyes slowly blinking up at him, pressing her touch more firmly to his arm, a yearning innocent sort of expression she prayed he would like. “Olaf…” She begged. 

Olaf found himself captured in her eyes, wanting to wrap his arm around her back and pull her to him, as he had done in the night. There was a flicker of hope in his gut that she meant it; that she uttered his first name so beautifully because it was how she felt. He huffed, flicking his eyes quickly to Klaus as he reached his hand to brush Violets hair back over her shoulder, and rested his hand there. His smile thin, sardonic and self-impressed, as he watched Klaus fidget uncomfortably.  “Fine. If it gets you out of here; you all smell and this room has only just been cleaned.” _Maybe she’ll be grateful for my goodwill_ , he thought.

“Thats very kind of you,” She smiled, relaxing her posture and dropping her hand from him, glancing thankfully at her brother. 

Olaf loped to a chest of drawers, finding his wallet in the top drawer and peering quizzically inside of it. “But you’re going separately. I’m not stupid enough to let you all go. You’d only try and run away to the bank telling lies again,” He licked his thumb in a slow theatrical fashion, counting out the banknotes and folding them, offering them to Violet. 

“Thank you,” She nodded, taking the money and quickly returning to her siblings. 

Olaf leant on the chest of drawers. How eager she was to snatch the money from him and run back to her brother and sister; it made him suspicious. Had her attention all been a game? The thought bothered him. He had been obliging, _gentle_ even, with her requests in the night. Waking to find his hand pushed down between her legs had been a surprise; but this attempt to play on his attraction didn't sit well with him. “Now get out, all of you.” 

Klaus wouldn't have been supportive of what she had tried to do, if told in advance, but it seemed to have worked. That was what mattered. They had some money and he was confident they could make it go a long way to cover the things they needed. “C’mon. Lets make a list.” She nodded and followed her brother out the bedroom, pausing briefly in the doorway to look back at Count Olaf. She wasn’t sure, but it had felt too easy. He had given in, provided them with money after adamantly saying no, refusing even when she offered to repay him. 

He wasn’t smiling. Olaf was just staring, his dark beady eyes locked on her. _The bitch had tried to play me._

“Violet?” Klaus prompted, already half way across the landing. 

Violet felt his displeasure stab her in the chest, making her breath tremble as she tried to take enough air in to answer her brother. “Coming.” 


	3. Chapter 3

Klaus buttoned up Sunnys coat and put her bonnet on, then picked his sister up. “Are you sure thats everything we need?” He checked, running his eyes down the list he and Violet had written. He folded it up and put it in the pocket of his trousers. 

Violet nodded. “It’s everything vital. If you have money leftover then look for some clothes for us. I’m sure the City has a thrift store?” She suggested, knowing the small donation Count Olaf had given them might not stretch. She heard the doorbell ring; Justice Strauss had agreed to escort them into town - in fact she was more than delighted to be asked. They walked together to the front door and just as Violet went to open it, The Bald Man walked through from the kitchen to take the door handle from her with a gruff expression. They both stood back a bit and stared at the giant of a man. 

Klaus glanced at his sister. “What will you be doing? Are you sure you’ll be okay?” He sort of whispered, unsure about there apparent door attendant. The Bald Man turned his back on the pair, and tugged the door open.

Justice Strauss had wide eyes as she stared up at the Bald Man in surprise. “Oh! Good morning - I believe I’m on time?” She asked, sliding her sleeve up to check the time on her watch. She had not expected to be greeted by this stranger. Klaus, Sunny and Violet crept around the man with a meek expression. Justice Strauss saw them and clapped her hands together happily. “Oh there you are children, so good to see you!” She held her hand out for Klaus who felt strangely child like at such  a gesture, when he and Violet were becoming more than self sufficient in Olaf’s care. 

“Hello Justice Strauss. Thank you so much for taking my brother and sister in to the City,” Violet said warmly, shoving herself in front of The Bald Man who took a step or two back and folded his arms. His job was to do the door, not police it, so he didn't mind the conversation. 

Justice Strauss rubbed Violets arm kindly. “Oh its a pleasure! I was just thinking I need to go myself but couldn't face the long trolley ride alone.” 

“Well then it works out for both of us,” Klaus noted with a smile, walking down the steps of Count Olaf’s home together with the pleasant and well mannered adult, far more the sort of Guardian he was familiar with. 

“Indeed!” Violet heard the woman say, and waved at them both heading off down the road. 

The Bald Man stepped in front of her once again, frowning down at her and pointing into the house with a slow movement of his arm. “Get back from the door,” He said in his very low tone voice. 

Violet stumbled back a few steps, nodding. “Oh, I’m sorry.” She tried to look around him to see if she could still see Klaus and Sunny, if they were getting to the trolley stop okay, but they were out of sight and he was blocking most of the doorway with his tall square frame. She felt herself jump slightly, the little hairs on the back of her neck stand up as a slow creeping fear ran up her back as he slammed the door and closed the many locks that held her in. 

_Might as well get on with that list of chores then_ , Violet thought, taking a deflated breath in and out, looking around the house. It felt far more empty without her siblings there. Just as she turned toward the kitchen to retrieve the list, she heard her name called out above her. 

“Violet? Oh Violet?” Count Olaf sang, standing on the balcony of the stairs. Had he been there the whole time? Surely one of them would have noticed that he was watching her siblings depart. “Would you come here my pet?” He crowed, leaning both his hands onto the bannister and and smiling with a knowing sort of expression. 

She glanced up and round, turning slowly to the sound of the now familiar voice. The mood had changed quickly since the front door shut, as if it was cutting her off from the rest of the world. She had to flick her head a little to shake the fringe from her eyes. “Do you need something?” She swallowed her nervousness to ask him politely. 

“Come upstairs and find out,” He repeated his request, clenching the wooden bannister tighter in his fists. 

She drew her shoulders back, trying not to get drawn into a confrontation with him. “Or maybe you could tell me here? I have a great many chores that will take me some time - “

Count Olaf stamped his foot with an immature frustration. “When I ask you to do something _Orphan_ I expect you to obey me!” 

Violet drew a deep breath in. Count Olaf only stamped his foot in frustration when he wasnt getting his own way, and in any one else would seem silly and childish to behave in such a way. But Violet knew that for Count Olaf it wasn’t childish, it was the first sign he was trying and failing to contain his anger. “Of course,” She said in a soft voice, lacking in confidence as she climbed the stairs to the small landing where Olaf waited. 

As soon as she reached the top of the stairs, her hand trailing along the bannister as she walked towards Count Olaf, he waited less than a second before turning toward her, reaching his hand up in the air and smacking her squarely across the cheek. Violet cried out in alarm, feeling the full force of his arm hit her somewhere between her jaw and cheek, sending her flying to the floor only barely catching herself on her hands.  “That, is for thinking you can play games with me,” He growled, crouching down to slowly drag the hair from her face. “You’re not as smart as you think you are.”

Anger flared in Violet, and she flicked her head up to face him with a determined frown. “Neither are you,” She snapped, scrambling to her feet and bolting down the hall away from him. 

Olaf rolled his eyes, cursing to himself and standing watching her run away. “Really?” He called, flapping his arms at his sides. He would have to chase after her now to deliver the rest of his scathing speech. 

She knew the house well, and darted into one of the bedrooms searching quickly for a suitable place to hide. The bed was broken, the wardrobe door was hanging off, neither providing enough space for her to crawl in or under. Checking down the hall she could see Olaf coming, not even bothering to break into a jog as he came after her. She had time to jump out the doorway and try another room, sneaking in and remembering this one was at least full of furniture, some used some disused and provided plenty of cover. She clambered over some wicker chairs and dropped to the floor, lying herself down and shimmying under the bed. 

It seemed preposterous that this was her life; that in one cycle of 24 hours she had slept beside Olaf, had his fingers inside her, manipulated him for money and now found herself playing a more deadly version of hide and seek after he physically hit her across the face. 

“Viiiolet…?” He called from the doorway, leaning his shoulder on the doorframe. She could see his two grey shoes that were once black, and the tattered ends of his trousers swinging around his ankles. She held her breath and tried to quieten the thumping from inside her chest that seemed deafeningly loud in her ears. Her jaw ached, she wanted to look in a mirror wondering if it would bruise. She hoped not, for otherwise she would have to explain it to Klaus and then he would only feel guilty for going on a jolly shopping trip with their neighbour. “Must we do this? I know you’re in here,” Count Olaf continued, sounding bored as he walked slowly into the room. Something swung back and for in his hand like a pendulum, catching the light and causing a little refraction of light to dance across the floor. A mirror would do it, perhaps a shiny glass or a watch face. 

Just then she felt a cold hand curl around her ankle, and she gasped in panic as he dragged her out from under the bed, scrabbling with her hands to try and hold onto something but there was nothing. “No!” She screamed, feeling splinters and scratches rake up the back of her bare legs as he yanked her from her hiding place, her dress riding up and staring at him from her frightful position on the floor. 

Before she had a chance to leap to her feet this time, Count Olaf stepped over her and dropped to his knees, straddling her small hips between his legs and threw his weight forward onto one hand digging it into her shoulder and pinning her to the floor. “Stay down!” He barked, as though her an animal needing such instruction. “Its high time we had a little chat, just you and me.” 

“Get off me!” She yelled, smacking and batting her fists against his arm that so heavily held her down, digging her nails into the skin of his forearm, with little result. “Why do you do this! I didn't do anything! If you want to talk why cant we just talk why did you hit me?” She argued, exasperated and irate with the constant mood switching, the fear and the threats that she had to navigate.

He pulls something the back of his trousers, and Violet trembled in fright seeing what it was that reflected the light. “You played on my attraction and that wasn’t very nice of you,” He said roughly, brandishing the knife and circling it slowly above her, pressing the side of the blade against her arm. “I almost thought you meant it,” He hissed.  

Her eyes fixed on the shiny blade, her hands curling up over her chest and under her chin in a protective foetal sort of pose. Violet couldn’t understand his reaction, all she had done was make eyes at him, touch his arm a little. Was his pride really so sensitive? “You’re hurt..?” She asked softly. He who dishes punishment out so recklessly, who forces her to work all night in the dark and feeds her breakfast on a fork like a doll; and he’s hurt that she used what little resources she had to ensure the comfort and safety of her siblings 

“I’m angry!” He snapped, sitting up on his haunches still pinning her down with his weight but removing the throbbing pain from her shoulder at least. “We’ve only fucked _once,_ and not even properly and you pull something like that?”

She flapped her arms at her sides smacking the bare wooden floorboards with her hands, bitter and dispirited. “I’m sorry but I had to do something - “

“Stop! Being so self _righteous_ …!” He held his hands either side of his head his features twisting as he rocked a little back and for as if in physical pain, banging the hilt of the knife against the side of his head. “It doesn’t suit you!” He puffed to himself, and rashly jerked what remained of her dress out of the way to slide the metal blade against her hip, under the leg of her panties and rip upwards, cutting through the cotton in one easy slice.  

“What are you doing!” She cried, the cool of the metal against her hipbone making her jerk terrified what he might do with it, only to have him cut her panties up, taking and ruining the one pair she owned. Olaf did the same on the other hip and Violet wrestled with him stubbornly swiping her hands for his wanting them back despite their uselessness, but eventually he tossed them across the room and pointed the knife back at her irritated. 

“Lie down.” She nodded silently and rested her shoulders back on the ground, lifting her chin a little as the tip of the knife made contact with her neck. She squeezed her eyes shut. She couldn’t smart her way out of it, even if she tied up her hair which right now was impossible.  

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is basically all plot-driven smut this chapter, you have been warned!

 

She forced herself to be calm, even if inside her head she was screaming. “What was I supposed to do, they’re my responsibility, I have to look after them…” She spoke in a slow and unflustered sort of way to try and calm the whole situation down, keeping her chin up and away from the point of the blade, her eyes counting the ceiling beams to focus. Olaf was clearly upset, hurt even by her actions; what she struggled to understand was why. But if that was how felt, then it wasn’t something she could dissuade or ignore. It was true she had not considered his feelings when she asked him to … _do that thing he did_ , (for she hadn’t said it out loud yet) assuming he would be glad to get his hands on her. If she honest with herself, she had not thought him capable of much feeling at all, for all he had displayed to them was how little he cared, for _anything_. Looking after them, or the house, or his own upkeep, or clothes that weren't tattered and stained. So why this? Violet thought it best to apologise, and think more on it later when there wasn’t a knife at her throat or a vengeful man atop her bare hips. “It was deceitful and wrong to tease you, but I had thought if it worked, if I could get the money we needed - then it was for a noble reason.” 

Count Olaf hummed, thinking on her apology and how nice it was when she did that. She was a sweet thing, more than he deserved but perhaps there was more to gain that just the Baudelaire fortune. “Theres nothing noble about this,” He murmured, slowly pushing his fingers between her folds and parting her gently, finding her clit and circling it tenderly. It may have only been once she asked, but he was keen to learn more of her. 

Her breath hitched quickly at his touch. “Don’t…,” She whispered, the echoes of last night hot in her mind. He had asked if she wanted him to do it again, and she agreed. But the time and the place had not been verified, she had assumed he meant in bed again, out of sight in darkness veiling what they were doing. She didn't want to think about it. 

Olaf didn't stop, letting his finger work the small bud of nerves to a steady gentle rhythm. “You wanted my attention Violet.” 

Violet felt her heart flutter faster in her chest, her thighs tensing as he built that delicious burning desire she had felt the night before. “Don’t do that,” She gasped, biting her lips hard and shaking her head. He shouldn't do this, not now, not here, _not like this._

“Why?” He tilted his head with a grin, watching all her anger slip away. He knew this would melt her resolve eventually. “You pushed my hand down there, you _wanted_ me to do this.”   

“Stop saying that!” She shrieked, half sitting up to grab his hand, pull him away, stop him touching her _stop this_ whatever this was. Olaf looped his other arm around her back holding her in her sitting up position, the knife still in his hand now somewhere between her shoulder blades, but not threatening her anymore. Violet shook her head at him, gripping his forearm trying to drag his hand away, but her breath was coming in shorter pants and she felt her arousal press wetly between her thighs, barely an inch from where he touched her. “Please,” She whispered, her hands stilling over his, finding herself almost stroking his wrist with her fingertips, staring at his hand staring at _herself_ shamefully and how she wasn’t stopping him. 

“The sooner you accept what you want the better, and we can actually negotiate,” Olaf murmured, leaning his shoulders down a little to kiss the top of her head. “Hmm?” 

“I hate you,” She replied, squeezing her eyes shut balling her fists and hitting him on the legs, that were still straddling either side of her. She punched out at him and kicked her feet losing one shoe, her knees lifting and scrabbling and trying to move her hips but she was stuck under him,  his arm was round her back supporting her _holding her_ to him. “ _I hate you_ and I hate this house I hate living here, I hate _this_ , I hate what you do to me!” Violet yelled tearfully, finally pushing on his chest with her hands, banging her fists there in useless hollow motions. She leant against his chest then, panting ceasing her struggling, letting her eyes shut. She was consumed by him, like last night in bed. He was all around her, his body enveloping hers, cradling her almost. The smell of him, his scent filling her and the feel of his heartbeat under her palm. 

Violet could almost pretend the rest of the world wasn’t there. 

He smiled to himself, keeping up the movements of his finger around her clit, adding in straight up and down flicks that were more powerful. She clutched her fingers into Olafs shirt holding onto him with a gasp as her hips urged wantonly to his touch. “The first part of that was probably true. But you’re not really showing me hate right now,” He said, amused. Olaf relaxed his arm slightly, allowing her to lean back a bit. He caught her eyes in his, and raised his long eyebrow. “Do you truly, want me to stop?”

She wiped her cheek smearing long lost tears across her skin. Violet shook her head. “Don’t stop,” She whispered, her voice cracking a little, searching for a reason in his eyes, an excuse that could explain to her why her body urged her into things, things that if one were to look objectively at them would be terribly terribly wrong. “I need you to,” She admitted, sniffing and bidding the rational part of her to quieten. 

“Thought so,” Count Olaf hummed, grinning merrily. As he eased his arm looser around her back, laying her back onto the floor, she reached her arm up hesitantly to hold onto his shoulder, bringing him down with her.  

She could almost scrunch the spike swathes of grey hair at the nape of his neck if she reached her fingers a little closer, but thought better of it. His hand moved between them, gliding down in longer sweeps from her clit to her centre, feeling and circling her coating himself in her wetness. Violet nodded to him again in confirmation, but he paused, a small chuckle escaped his chest. “Demanding Orphan,” He said, and thrust two fingers inside her. 

Violet groaned and arched her back, she had been so ready for this it was shameful. “Yees…,” She moaned through a breath, holding onto his shoulders as he pushed and sucked in and out of her wetness. The sliding squelching sounds made her blush, the dreadful knowledge of how aroused he had made her echoing in the room. 

He thrust and fucked his fingers in and out of her, enjoying the way her lips twitched at the sensations he gave her, the way her neck arched and his eyes could follow uninhibited down her body to where his hand was hidden between her thighs. It made him frustratingly hard, especially being contained by his old grey jeans. But Olaf could feel her threatening an orgasm already, her walls tightening and releasing in spasms over his fingers. He had been stroking her for a while, he mused, and it had clearly had the desired effect. This wasn’t about him. “I have a price,” He said, bringing his lips to her ear to utter it right into her mind. 

She blinked, an electric feeling shooting to her fingertips and toes, making her tense. It was if his words alone had an effect on her and she snatched a breath. “ _What_?” She couldn't believe him.  

Olaf smirked, drawing his touch away, instead only playing his two fingers at her entrance, just up to the first knuckle, there but _not enough_. She shifted uncomfortably on the hard floor, painfully aware of how she was grinding her hips onto his fingers trying to push them back inside her. What was he playing at now? “ _What_ you say? A small price to pay for receiving what you want.” He slid his hand out from under her back the metal making a dragging clanging sound on the floor, stroking his touch over her chest every so lightly. She had almost forgotten about the knife, but he clearly had not. 

“What do you want?” She panted in confusion, twisting away a little from his hand on her chest, not the mention the careless way he moved the knife around. Touching her like that was not … okay. _Not yet._ Their dance had been very much contained between her legs and she wasn’t ready to explore other things, or feel him touching her elsewhere, there was a limit on what she understood she wanted. 

A deep rumbling chuckle hummed from his lips, an evil glint in his shiny eyes as he said it. “A kiss.”

Her stomach dropped, his words winding her, the very idea of it repulsive. He might know what she wanted… _down there,_ but the thought of kissing him, those lips, the thin and creepy smile he grinned at them or the less than stellar personal hygiene was not what she envisaged as her first kiss. “Why?”

Olaf shrugged, pushing inside her hard and deep, simply smiling as she groaned and arched pushing her body up to his, only to pull straight out again and focus on her clit. She shoved him and flopped back down on the hardwood floor her eyes stormy as she dug her nails into his shoulder, showing her displeasure. His features grimaced a little, which made her feel better. “Because I do.” 

Violet sighed reluctantly, but knew that if she was going to get out of this somewhat satisfied, she would have to do it. She couldn't face the thought of cleaning and doing chores the rest of the day feeling _like this._ Even if she managed to sneak away from their work, into a bathroom somewhere or behind a door that she could lock, her limited mastery of such things would no-doubt not be enough. “Put that away,” She said first, making her own demands of him with a nod to the knife that still played between them. He wasn’t doing anything with it other than playing games and she would rather not the threat of being injured with it at any moment. Olaf narrowed his eyes momentarily, then sat up just slightly to tuck the knife in the belt at the back of his trousers. She drew a slow breath in and out of her chest, clearing her mind and nodding. “Okay,” She consented. 

He groaned happily, curling his fingers at her entrance and waiting for her to show good on her promise. Olaf brushed his lips lightly over hers at first, testing and gentle. Her lips were soft and sweet, echoes of the sugar from her oatmeal breakfast still lingering. Violet steeled herself against it, her hands gripping his shoulders hard as he she squeezed her eyes shut and leant up, pressing her lips properly to his, kissing him for the first time. Olaf smiled against the kiss, and without warning kissed her back, hard and hungry and pushed his fingers high inside her simultaneously. She whined into his mouth as he fucked her again, his fingers moving swiftly this time, urgent and firm and using his thumb up between her folds each time to nudge her clit and push her back to the edge of orgasm. Violet lost all sense of herself, kissing him and her arms wrapping over his shoulders scratching her fingers through his hair as he flicked her sensitive bed of nerves, increasing the pace of his thrusts till he felt her tighten, her abdominals clenching and a gasping sound giving way to the wet squeeze over his fingers as she came. He unexpectedly plunged his tongue into her mouth and she felt consumed, both his tongue and his fingers swimming wetly inside her and she melted into him, her thigh muscles trembling as she crashed. 

Count Olaf broke the kiss and drew back, his chest heaving quick deep breaths. “Well, well, well …,” He bragged, slipping his fingers out of her and drying them on the hem of his shirt. 

She pressed her palm over her eyes, not wanting to see the gleeful triumphant expression he probably had. She shoved her fringe back from her face giving in to a heady sigh, coming down slowly. She tingled all over, the chill of her bare legs and ass making her quiver slightly. 

Olaf pushed himself up on his hands, standing and stepping off her only to flop onto the corner of the bed. “You _can_ get up, you know,” He smirked, pleased with how undone she had become. Violet sat herself up slowly, leaning on one hand and shoving down the hem of her dress to cover herself, as though it made any difference now. Bending her knees up slowly, she hugged them tight to her chest and curled into a tight ball. “Good girl,” He cooed, reaching to stroke her hair, expecting her to jerk away like she usually did. But Violet found little point in it, considering what had just happened between them. The change in her made something tighten in his groin. 

“Your promise stands?” She said quietly, glancing up at him. She felt cold and achy on the unforgiving wooden floor.  

He made a bored face at her, slapping his legs theatrically. “What would I gain from telling your snotty brother what _dark and_ _desperate urges_ his sister is hiding?” 

She nodded silently, reaching then for the edge of the bed to help herself to her feet, and adjusted her dress down. “May I use your shower again?” Violet asked, satisfied her clothes were in place and folded her arms protectively over her chest. 

“Only if I can come too,” He beamed, reaching for the edge of her skirt and flapped it up with his hand.  

“No!” She recoiled, pushing her dress back down and scowling at him. 

He got up then and pushing a hand to the small of her back, ushered her out the room into the hallway. “Go then. I’m going out so you better be done by the time I get back. Or before your siblings return because, then you’d have to _explain yourself_ and ugh- “ He was already loping toward the top of the stairs with a swinging dancing sort of gait, that showed him all the too pleased with himself. She stood stubbornly in the doorway of the room, arms still folded, jaw clenched at him. He turned to look back at her over his shoulder with a toothy grin, and those dark shiny eyes. “That would be tricky.” 

 “Ugh!” She exclaimed, turning as well and marching toward his bedroom and the only place she could truly wash his touch off her again. Her centre throbbed, her wetness smearing between her thighs as she walked, not letting her forget how she had wanted it, and how _damn good_ it was


	5. Chapter 5

Violet was taking her time in the shower, needing to process. The deafening silence that came from the constant spattering of water from the shower was a welcome one, allowing her to clear her mind and think objectively on the situation. She sat down cross legged on the floor of the shower, letting the water hit her back in the hopes it wouldn't ache as much afterwards. Doing what they did on an uncarpeted floor was not the easiest on her back. 

He had manipulated her, she reasoned. Of course he did. Thats all he ever did. The whole reason her and her siblings found themselves in Count Olaf’s care was because of a dim-witted banker being manipulated; and although Olaf’s acting skills and outfits were downright atrocious, he was proving in time to be cleverer than he seemed. He was adept at reading body language and seeing through people, or was it just with her? Her drive to grow-up? The fire and the need to look after her siblings had cut her teenage years short. She was intellectually the match of any adult, so in some respects, this was the natural course. Violet nodded to herself through the water, her considerations and analysis of the situation putting her mind at rest. It wasn’t wrong or depraved, it made sense. She was sure many girls around her age started the same experiences, just with younger lovers. 

Violet wiped her palms down her face and turned the shower off, hoping her dress was dry. She had hand-washed it in the sink and hung it to dry, in case anything lingered on it from earlier. If nothing else it made her feel better to be dressing into somewhat clean clothes now she too, was clean. 

Her socks weren’t dry so she pulled her feet into her sneakers without them, taking them with her to hang up in their attic room. She rubbed herself dry and dressed quickly. Violet opened the bathroom door into Olaf’s bedroom, peering her head out first to make sure he wasn’t there, planning something outrageous to jump out on her. 

The house appeared to be quiet as she walked out onto the landing, looking over the bannister downstairs, then up toward their attic room. She exhaled in relief. Klaus, Sunny and Justice Strauss must not be back from the City yet. She trotted down the stairs a few at a time, glancing left and right when she reached the bottom. “Hello,” She smiled awkwardly at The Bald Man who sat by the door vigilantly. 

“Miss Baudelaire,” He replied, standing from the wooden stool and folded his arms, staring down at her. “No escaping. Count Olaf ordered me to watch the door, so thats what I’m doing.” 

She clasped her hands behind her back, looking up at the imposingly tall man. “I’m not trying to escape. I just wanted to know who else was home?” 

“No-one,” He grunted gruffly. 

The door knocked and The Bald Man looked behind him, pointing a silent finger at her to step back which she diligently did. Satisfied she was far enough back and not about to dash out and escape, he turned slowly and unlocked the three different, difficult locks that Olaf had secured his front door with. He frowned down at the front door step and the children on it. “No loitering. Move along.” 

“Why, this is Klaus and Sunny Baudelaire -“ Justice Strauss jumped in with a merry smile. She was carrying a large brown paper bag in one arm allowing Klaus to cradle Sunny on his hip. 

“We live here, unfortunately,” Klaus added sourly. The Bald Man looked behind him at Violet, with a dumb confused frown. He stood back and let the two children in, reuniting delightedly with the eldest Baudelaire. 

“Klaus,” Violet said, embracing her brother and sister into a hug, Sunny batting Violets wet hair from her face. “Sorry Sunny,” She smiled. She offered to take the bag of shopping from Justice Strauss. “Thanks for letting my brother and sister go with you into town Justice Strauss, I hope they weren’t too much trouble,” She said politely, knowing that neither Klaus nor Sunny were not anything of the sort. 

“Oh it was my pleasure Violet - oh, my! What happened to your face? Did you hurt yourself?” Justice Strauss sang with concern in her voice. She almost wanted to reach out and see for herself but Violet shuffled the shopping bag in the way as if it were getting heavy. 

“Its nothing,” Violet said, brushing the woman off. As much as her intentions were well-justified, they were also unhelpful. “Thanks again. Goodbye Justice Strauss.” 

The Bald Man was keen to shut the door in their neighbours face before she had had the chance to truly say her goodbyes, which usually dragged on. For she had the funniest feeling that each and every time she said goodbye to the children, that it might be the last time she ever saw them. 

Violet walked solemnly away from the door with her siblings, the disquieting gloom settling over them once again, looking around them wondering where to unpack their shopping. “I’m glad you’re both home.” She said quietly, glancing back at The Bald Man as he clapped and clicked all the locks back in place. It really was the most unsettling sound, hearing all the ways they were trapped here echoing in the hallway. 

“Me too. Though I don't think this will ever be our home,” Klaus smiled soberly.  

“Kopish,” Sunny added, a phrase here which meant “Thats true, but we should make the best of it.” 

“I suppose you’re right Sunny. C’mon lets show Violet what we managed to buy,” He said, smiling lightly wanting the mood to lift. As they headed toward the ballroom - they knew the floor in there was clean at least, Klaus waited until they were out of earshot of The Bald Man and whispered to her. “What really happened to you jaw? Its bruised.” 

The siblings kneeling down on the floor and Klaus setting Sunny next to them. Klaus looked at her brother sadly. “What do you think,” She answered, not really in the form of a question though that was how it sounded. She was reluctant to state the name of the obvious culprit or have Klaus ask any more probing questions around its circumstances, for what _aching joy_ came after had pushed the physical way he reprimanded her almost out of her mind entirely. She reached out and touched his shoulder, giving it a soft shake. “Don’t dwell on it. You needed to go shopping.”

Klaus balled his fists insistently. “I should have been here.” 

“I don’t want to think about it, lets see what you’ve got,” Violet started lifting items from the bag and laying them out, pleased they had followed the list for that fell out the bag too with lines through which items had been purchased. “Oh good, formula bottles, they can be for water too right? If we sterilise them?” Violet carried on, comfortable she had put the conversation to bed. 

“Ameet!” Agreed Sunny, taking one of the bottles and giving it a functionary chew, showing how it would withstand her sharp teeth. 

Klaus puffed angrily, standing and pacing unable to contain his emotions in the situation. He had let her down, he had left her alone with Count Olaf for most of the morning and this was the result. Violet might be resolute in her idea that she alone was responsible for them as a family, but he too had to step up to the plate. He was the only male Baudelaire left standing, it was his duty to protect them. “But he struck you Violet!” 

“And he struck you too, Klaus!” She retorted back sharply, sighing a frustrated breath out of her chest. “Now sit down. Please, I don't want to talk about it anymore.” She stroked her fingers painfully along the small swollen area on her jaw, not that bruised but red enough that it could be seen, especially by the nosy peering of Justice Strauss. 

Klaus felt his body go limp, nodding and slumping into across legged position. “I’m sorry. I should be more sympathetic to you’re feelings,” He apologised, realising that maybe it hurt more for her, now. Remembering it, thinking about it, though he didn't know the circumstances he could appreciate being interviewed and questioned would not make it un-happen, and would likely not make either of them feel better. “And yes, the bottles can be used for both. Theres three boxes of powdered milk. They have short sell-by dates so they were cheaper.” He tried to smile, but needing to painstakingly count their items and total the costs before approaching the cashier had been a painful and embarrassing experience. “I tried my best.” 

Sunny crawled toward the bag and knocked it over, dragging things out until she found what she was looking for, a new hat. Pulling her old one off and abandoning it, she tried (with difficulty) to get the new one on, the dexterity a little beyond her skillset. Violet chuckled gently, aiding her younger sister. “Tak.” She babbled, saying thank you. 

The recognisable sound of door locks unlocking made them stop, and look at one another. They stood slowly and crept to the doorway, watching as The Bald Man opened the front door once more and Olaf’s theatre troupe crashing in with a cacophony of noise, bags, talking and already keenly drinking. Olaf followed them, last through the door, notably carrying no bags at all. “C’mon boss can we open the good stuff now?” The Hook-Handed Man called, snapping open his hooks as he plonked the many and various bags on the dining room table puffing for air. “These bags are heavy!” 

“Yes yes its surely lunch time,” Said one of the White-faced Women. 

“Salmon steak sounds good to me,” The other answered. 

Olaf looked The Bald Man up and down as if examining his doorman duty as inadequate. “Where are the Orphans?” He snapped, “It is indeed lunch time and I am tired after a dragging this lot through the City. Its like herding pigs trying to keep them together,” He muttered, a grumbling sort of tone as though they weren't any use at all carrying all his bags. 

“They’re in the Ball room.” The Bald Man answered, gesturing to his right. 

Violet, Klaus and Sunny quickly jumped away out of sight, as Olaf turned his gaze on the empty doorway. They returned to their shopping and shuffled the things back into the bag, both knowing they would have to finish their unpacking later, likely in the safety of the attic room. “So Count Olaf does have money,” Klaus observed, sitting the bag up. “He is a Count, after all. But why then give us such a hard time this morning?” 

“To teach you all the value of hard work, _obviously_ , and where money comes from,” Count Olaf answered, sashaying into the room with a grand flourish of his arm as if announcing himself onto the stage. “Though I am not without a heart.” He smiled something twisted, and produced a hidden bag from behind his back and dangled it in front of Violet. 

She leant back on her knees slightly, the bag about to hit her in the face. “Uh, is that for - us?” She asked retrieving the bag from his pale bony fingers. 

“Its for _you_ ,” Olaf specified. His smile turned into a grin when he watched her expression change from confusion to self-conscious blushing. It was only faint, and she glanced at her siblings before taking the bag, but still, she took it. He stroked his hand over her hair and stood up again. “You can choose which to wear for me at dinner, but you _will_ wear one.” Count Olaf said firmly, turning on his heel and striding away. “That is all.” 

Violet swallowed nervously, and opened the bag. Inside were a few dresses, two or three it seemed to be with the corresponding amount of underwear. She fished her hand around inside the bag for anything else, something for Klaus, or Sunny, but there was nothing. She looked between her siblings, unsure what to say. 

“Well? Whats in there?” Klaus asked, more than interested. He was also more than concerned about Count Olaf’s instructions. 

She pulled the dressed out, folding the bag then as if there was nothing else contained in there, unwilling to explain why he had felt the need to buy her replacement underwear. “Its, dresses. Three dresses.” She flung each one out in turn so they lay over her lap, partly inquisitive in herself. She wanted to know what Olaf had bought, what he thought might look good on her. Was it wrong to wonder on his opinion of her? She sucked her lips in as she concentrated on dispelling the question, glad to be distracted from her thoughts when Sunny crawled over and patted one of the dressed. 

“Meepo,” Sunny said, looking up at her older sister eyeing the dresses jealously. 

Violet awkwardly bundled them back up into the bag, clutching it closed. “I don't think theres any for you, sorry Sunny.” 

Klaus looked pensive. “Why would Count Olaf so willingly spend money on you?” He was troubled by the development, though wanting to be pleased for his sister of course that she had some more clothes to wear. If he was honest, he was almost jealous of the new clothes, which only led him to feel guilty. Jealousy is not a noble sort of emotion to suffer. 

“I’m not sure,” Violet swallowed. She knew exactly why Olaf was favouriting her, and the fact she could never be able to explain this to her brother was forming a knot in her stomach. She had never kept secrets from him before, and it felt wrong. “They’re lovely of course but its not fair on you and Sunny,” She finished, looking helplessly at her siblings

Klaus shuffled over to her and put his arm over her shoulders, trying to make her feel better, which of course only served to make her feel worse. “Either way you need clothes Violet. Maybe he's just getting yours first, and then he’ll get me some shirts next week.” They both looked at each other, knowing this was not even a distant possibility. 

“What if - if I offer to take them back and exchange them, we could use the money to find clothes for all of us. That seems more fair?” Violet suggested. 

Sunny copied her older brother and crawled to Violet side and flapped an arm on her legs, gazing up at her supportively. “Porshti.” 

“Thanks Sunny. But its worth a try.” She pressed her hands to the floor pushing to standing and clutched the bag of clothes to her waist, knowing this would likely be a fruitful exercise. If he had gone to such lengths to buy clothes - _and matching underwear_ , just for her then that was what he wanted. He’d already announced his desire to have her in one for dinner. Violet felt a nervous flutter in her chest, if that was what he wanted, should she deny him that? It wasn’t too much of an ask, and he was giving her something _she_ wanted, right? 

Violet walked slowly out of the ballroom with an impending sense of foreboding as she approached the raucous group of actors. They were already on the wine although it was barely lunch time, seemingly celebrating a success they had had, though Violet was puzzled as to what that was. 

“Oh look, here she comes!” The first White-faced Woman said, grinning as Violet walked through them to find Count Olaf sitting at the head of the table in his usual high-backed chair. 

“The main character!” The other clapped excitedly, making Violet stare at them as she passed. What were they talking about? 

The Hook Handed Man draped his arm over her small shoulders with his wine tipping precariously in his hook. Violet grimaced away not only from him, the smell of his breath, but also from the red wine and its falling droplets onto her just-washed dress. “You’re going to look fabulous on your big day. Pretty as a peach. Or a white peach. We bought all this material to -“ 

“Thankyou! Thank you everyone…!” Count Olaf jumped in, standing and glaring at The Hook Handed Man. “Tidy all of this up, how will the Orphans _ever_ serve our lunch with nowhere to sit and eat.” He slumped back in his chair crossing his legs and ignoring Violets unsteady approach on purpose. He wanted her to squirm a little longer. 

The sudden bustle of the troupe shoving everything back into bags and tidying away contrast quickly to the sudden silence that fell once they filed out one by one taking the shopping with them. Violet remained standing there, her big eyes looking worriedly about. “Count Olaf I was wondering if - “ 

“Pardon?” He asked, not yet looking at her. He simply used two fingers to beckon her closer. 

Violet took a tempered breath in and out, stepping closer to his chair. “I was wondering, _Olaf_ …, if you would consider letting me return these things and exchange them, for clothes for all of us. Its, very nice of you to think of me, but I have to consider my siblings. If I exchange them then you won’t be spending any more money than you’ve already spent and, I know how careful you are with your money,” Violet asked, sympathetically adding a few compliments in there hoping these would endear her to him a little. 

At first there was little response from Count Olaf, who swirled his glass and stared into it hypnotically. Violet wasn’t sure what to do. He must have heard her, there was only them in the room after all. “Drink,” He turned his head, his long eyebrow frowning darkly over imperceptible eyes. He held out his glass to her and adjusted his position in the chair somewhat to face her. “Violet.” There was a warning to it, the way he used her first name instead of saying _Orphan_ , and it made her want to recoil. She placed the bag next to them on the table and took the glass compliantly, looking into it first wondering if it was poisoned or something nefarious had placed in it, but looking back at him found nothing, and drank a small sip of wine. He touched his fingers under the foot of the glass, not letting her lower it, and she gulped down there rest of the glass squinting as her eyes watered. Only once the glass was empty did he let her take it from her lips and she coughed, shuddering dizzily as the potent flavours settled uneasily in her stomach. “So you _can_ do as you're told,” He hummed, removing the glass from her fingers and putting it on the table too. “Funny, because it almost sounded like you were being an ungrateful spoiled little girl refusing to do as she is told.”

Heat rose up Violets back, and she quickly chalked it up to the wine. “I wasn’t refusing, as such, simply - “

“Did your parents never teach you how to, _graciously_ accept gifts from handsome young men?” 

“But you’re not a handsome young man,” Violet retorted, forgetting who it was she was talking to. She winced automatically before he even did anything, closing her eyes and ducking her head down. Her jaw still ached from earlier and this was probably a stupid idea asking to change the dresses and now she had insulted him - 

He rolled his eyes. “I’m not going to strike you. Don’t look so frightened.” 

“But you did earlier,” Violet replied, daring herself to open her eyes and look back at him. “You chased me through the house with a knife.”

“And gave you the second best sexual experience you’ve ever had,” Olaf smirked, chuckling knowingly. 

She pressed her thighs together at the memory, the awareness of her lack of underwear suddenly plaguing her once again. She glanced at the bag, at the relative safety of offered undergarments wondering if she could take her suggestion back. She could just put it on for him? She could, simply tell Klaus that Olaf refused? “If, if I put one of the dresses on, perhaps you could -“

“- think about forgetting your lack of manners? I could,” Olaf interrupted her, opening the bag and choosing which one he preferred for her - a pale blue kitschy sort of style with a yellow belt and buttons to the waist, a curved collar open enough to show a bit of chest. It had a bouncy pleated skirt that would swirl nicely if one made a turn on the spot. He thrust the dress at her, and continued to rifle until he found what he wanted. The bra and panties were also the same pale blue, but with little white flowers and frills on the hips that matched the style of the dress. “Or I could punish you anyway because wheres the fun in being nice?” His low evil laugh rumbled in his chest, more than enjoying her heightening anxiety. He put the card price tag that hung from the panties in his mouth and chewed the plastic, biting the price tag off and spitting it out, Violet only looking disgusted at him. 

Count Olaf tugged his chair around from the table so it faced her directly, and arched his fingers in the girly underwear, finding the leg holes. “What are you doing?” Violet breathed quietly, her pulse quickening in her chest. Did he really want her to put them on now? Why was he - he was helping her? Holding them out like - she balled her fists and shut her eyes at the indignity. He was a master schemer, she forced herself to remember, it was a game. Always a game, for power, for entertainment, for her compliance. 

He bent over slightly holding them out for her to step into. “I know you haven't got any on,” He whispered in response, his voice causing her arousal to stir. She tightened her abdominals and muttered curses under her breath. 

“Fine.” She placed her hand on his shoulder for balance as she lifted one foot up, carefully guiding it through the leg hole, and then the other, both hands on his shoulders as he slowly sat up, dragging the frilly cotton material up her thighs. Once in place he made sure they lay flat, that they fit, running the tips of fingers around each thigh, right to the inside and then swiped up her centre, flicking across her sensitive folds, making her buck and gasp. Violet pushed on his shoulder angrily and stepped back, folding her arms in defence of the reaction he created in her. “That was a mean trick.” 

Olaf shrugged at her. “I’m a mean person.” 

Violet picked up the dress and the bra, agreeing at least to her part of the bargain in the hopes that some good behaviour on her part would make him more agreeable to her demands. “I’ll just … go and put these on then.” 

Olaf half stood to reach and grab her wrist quickly, tugging her back to him. “Oh no no Orphan. You’ll get dressed here.”

She frowned. “Here?”

“Right here,” He repeated, sitting back down and uncorking the bottle of wine to refill his glass. “For my entertainment,” He added in a low, amused voice. 

He couldn't mean it? She was already stunningly humiliated putting the panties on and her siblings were only in the ball room. This wasn’t the middle of the night. It wasn’t an empty house where they wouldn’t be seen, it was - too risky. “No.” She glowered. 

“Then any deal, darling Violet, you wish to strike with me, is gone. Poof! Into thin air,” Olaf made a little dramatic disappearing act with his fingers and smiled, a cunning sly sort of smile that one only had when you knew you were going to win. It turned Violets stomach. She unlaced the narrow white belt first, which he held his hand out for and she stubbornly slapped the thing into his hand. Her fingers undid the buttons down her chest, from the collar first and down, bunching her lips as she did so, the sides of her dress coming apart until finally it was completely undone. Olaf sipped his wine and played the belt on thigh, tapping it, imagine slapping her across the back of the thighs with it. Such a thin strip of plastic-y leather like this would leave a lovely red stripe, he mused, trailing his eyes over her unashamedly. “I knew those would suit you,” He murmured, tucking his finger into the elastic hem of the new panties, pulling it and snapping it back against her skin. He relaxed back in his chair again as she let the dress slip from her arms to the floor and take the new pale blue one. “Uh uh,” He tsked, lifting the new bra dangling it from a single finger and waving it back and forth like a pendulum. “This first.” 

“Please,” She whined softly. “Can we at least go your bedroom? They’ll know I’ve been gone too long. What if they and come and look for me?” Violet worried, shooting a quick look over her shoulder at the open doorway of the ballroom, just across the dining room and hall. Open plan living was not designed with this in mind. Count Olaf didn't answer, simply waited for her to realise her fate was inevitable. It was in his hands. If he wanted her to do this, here, then she would. She was already in too deep. Her shoulders sighed with regret, but obeyed all the same. She unclipped the bra reaching her hand behind her, catching the front before it came away too far. Violet wanted to retain what modesty she could, which was limited at this stage. Nevertheless, it was hers. Winding her arms out of the straps one by one, she carefully placed her forearm across her chest to keep covered as she slinked the material out, reaching one-handedly for the new one. It was awkward and difficult and she knew Olaf was delighting in all of it. Violet attempted to struggle through with dignity, even if she felt lost inside. She slipped the cups of the new bra into place, her arm maintaining a degree of coverage over her breasts.  

“Violet..?” A voice came from behind her, and she froze. _Klaus_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this keeps getting longer, but even this chapter was almost too long for one chapter. But please trust me and stick with me I know the ending and its going to happen in the next part, hopefully with both of them satisfied... shall we say.


	6. Chapter 6

For once Count Olaf had been caught by surprise, his attention focused on the nymph before him, he had failed notice the boys approach. Olaf grabbed Violet by the waist and pulled her to him, his reactions lightening quick despite the wine. Violet curled both arms up over herself, though her state of undress was obvious from any angle, her long dark hair curtaining across her bare back, just past her ribs. She wanted to tuck herself into Olaf’s chest, the crook of his shoulder and squeeze her eye shut and make the ghastly feelings go away. What would she say? How could she explain? She had to face her brother.

“What do _you_ want?” Count Olaf sneered, plucking the new dress from the table and passing it to Violet so she could cover herself with it and do a half-turn, looking petrified at her younger brother. 

Klaus stormed up to them, but caught himself stopping half way. His sister was very much naked except for what looked like new underwear, and he almost didn't want to approach any further. He wasn’t meant to see her like this, and certainly neither was Count Olaf. “Why is she - what are you doing to her?!” 

Olaf laughed, stroking Violets hair gently, almost pet-like. “What am _I_ doing? Why, Violet is simply getting changed like I asked.” 

Klaus picked his finger nails anxiously at his side. “But you said for dinner time. And its not, dinner time. Its also not right that you’re in where while she does so - “

Violet pressed herself back into Olaf, feeling a strange dichotomy in her brain that she was finding herself in a situation where it was Count Olaf that provided the safety, and her brother that presented the threat. “Klaus, please can you go?” Violet spoke up finally. If she was to explain something to him, it could not be now in a half-dressed state. 

Her brother shook his head in utter confusion. “What? No, Violet he shouldn't be in here. He shouldn't be - you’ve got no clothes on!” Klaus protested loudly. This wasn’t right. None of this was right. All day he had suppressing how he felt; that they had to beg for money from the Guardian, that they had to use a neighbour to escort them into town, that his sister was being plaything for Olaf in such a repellant way. “Violet, this isn't right. None of this is right!”  

“I know that Klaus!” Violet cried, Olaf’s arm cradling round her waist as she turned round properly, gripping the dress to her front desperately. He stroked her hip bone with a purposeful joy, grinning at Klaus over her shoulder. “Please, just go!” She begged. “I can handle it.”

Klaus couldn't perceive how or why she would want to remain with Olaf like this. It made no sense. “But Violet?” 

Count Olaf laughed, a bellowing sort of fake laugh that echoed around the dining room and sounded more like _Har-har_ than anything near genuine. “Handle it? Ha! Handle it she says, like none of this came from her -“

She growled at Olaf, his words inching too close to revealing something he had agreed repeatedly not to. “You don't understand Klaus, you have to trust me,” Violet insisted, twisting slightly in Olaf’s arms. He was just making it worse stroking her hip, touching her waist like that, leaning over her shoulder into her hair. It would only hurt and infuriate Klaus further and she wanted him to stop. “I’m not in any danger.” 

“I’m not sure I wholeheartedly agree with you,” Klaus sighed, seeing his sister couldn't be argued with. “But I trust you, and, please be careful.” 

She nodded sadly as her brother gave in and walked away, collecting Sunny and their shopping bag and heading up the flight of stairs. Violet turned angrily toward Olaf. “I told you, I told you that would happen!” Count Olaf shoved her against the table and swooped his hands under her thighs to lift her onto the tabletop, the force of it knocking flat on her back as he yanked her legs apart and pushed between them. “What are you doing?!” Violet gasped in panic, trying to sit back up but the angle was awkward, but despite she forced herself up onto one hand, the other losing the battle to keep herself covered. 

“You, preferably. I’d like to do you,” Count Olaf explained with waning patience, cricking his neck this way and that as he poured over her body laying out before him. He had held her close for only a few minutes, while her brother was there with his pathetic complaining; and yet, he was starting to suffer a growingly obvious erection. 

“I told Klaus I wasn’t in any danger and I meant it; we’ve done this dance enough times now that -“

“And I, Orphan,” He intervened, pressing his thumb over her clit painfully hard even through her new underwear. She yelped at the sharp pain, her breath was knocked from her chest from the overwhelming sensation. “Have walked away from every one of our _encounters_ , with a very large, very painfully hard - “

“Stop!” She cringed, knowing what he was referring to. “Why do you have to at all? Surely,” She panted softly, focusing on what she needed to say. “Sure this morning, the other night, its enough?” 

Olaf leant his hips against the table needing the pressure, his hands resting on her bare thighs. “I am but a man Violet, trust me when I tell you it will never be enough.” 

She didn't want to hear it, but she could believed him. She wasn’t an idiot she knew what men and women did, what sex was, but up until now had never considered it a possibility for herself. She had imagined it as some far-off concept of adulthood, the way you think your exams are ages away ehe in reality you have only a few weeks left to prepare. “What about me?” Violet asked, not able to ask the question she truly wanted to which was more along the lines of _Do I have a choice?_ For if she asked that question she was smart enough to know he was able to turn it back on her. She had a choice, of course, and she had already made it. She had consented to all of it, and even though thought of something more scared her, it didn't mean the reality of it would. Which was where she often seemed to find herself when it came to Count Olaf. 

Olaf huffed. “What about you? _You_ are the sexually charged young woman whose started a game she don't know how to play.” The throbbing in his groin was becoming impatient, and he shook his head slightly as he stared at the ceiling and undid his trousers, the button first and then the zip. _Yees, that felt better,_ he smiled lazily and his gaze slowly settled back on her. “Game on.” He tugged her hips forward on the table towards himself and she kicked back  though the air had little resistance. 

“Tonight!” She rammed her hands against his chest trying to hold back, her breath heaving from her bare chest, locks of hair twisting over her shoulder and breasts. _Please_ , her eyes implored him silently. 

He paused, cocking his eyebrow. “… Really?” That was too easy. “Because I was expecting a bit more resistance than that.” It didn't change his current _need_ however; though he could, for the promise of later tantric delights, put this need to one side and wait. 

Violet nodded. “I’ll come to your bed tonight. We can, do _that._ And then it never happens again.” She waited, a tremble to her fingertips as she kept her hands firmly on him, keeping him at bay. She prayed her offer was enough, for there was still a lot of firsts to be had and she didn't want this- _now_ on the dining room table to be her first time to have sex. Admitting such a thing would never happen, and she could be sure that Olaf would not have considered it. But for her, it was important that it was he choice when, and where. 

“Deal.” Olaf submitted, easing back from her. With the small gap between them now she could see the height of his erection, and her eyes widened in an odd sort of embarrassment, that a man could find her that attractive. 

She brought her legs together and shimmied off the table, landing with a near silent tap of her trainer on the wooden floor. “May I, get dressed now please?” 

“Here.” Count Olaf passed her the new bra as he slapped his hand on the table, staring at his cock almost laughing. He balled one fist and cursed under his breath. It wasn’t like it was going to just go away. “You don't mind if I keep staring at you for a few more minutes …,” He muttered, his hand finding his cock and starting to pump himself, leaning on the table as he did so. 

Violet was aghast at the sight of it, wanted to turn away and cover her ears again but she knew if she did that she would likely find herself face down on the table with the thing inside her. She had already experienced how he reacted when his pride was wounded. “Of course.” She said quietly, the last thing she really wanted to say or do but she said it anyway. It was the kind thing, she reasoned. 

She dressed quietly, albeit a little slower than she would usually, letting him glance at every couple of seconds as he jerked himself off under the dining table. Hooking her bra up, she finally - _finally_ after the last what seemed like eternity of standing there without it on, reached her arms up and pulled the dress over her arms and head, settling it at her hips and buttoning it up to the chest. She slid the two ends of yellow belt together and fastened it. 

He was still at it. She swallowed awkwardly. Should she wait for him to -? Violet tucked one arm across herself to hold the other, the pale blue dress fitting her a little tightly, but almost just right. Just as she thought about whether to say something, he was doubling over the table as he groaned and came, squirting into his hand and over the rug. After a few panting breaths, he stood again, tucking himself back into his trousers and flicking his hand of the juice, sticky white messes flicking off in all directions. The sight of it made her feel nauseous. There were some things she would just _never_ find attractive, in any man, she decided. 

Olaf flopped onto his chair with an easy tired sounding sigh. His body was relaxed, his features slack and gentle almost. Reaching for his wine, he waved her away. “Get out of my sight. Go and clean the library.”

She took a sharp excited breath in at his offer. “Really? You’ll let us in the library?” 

“I just said so didn't I?” He gulped the wine happily, not bothering to do his trousers back up. “Now go. And don't get that dress dirty.” 

Violet smiled and nodded, _that smile_ that caught him and made him so determined to make his scheme work. If she kept out of his way the rest of the afternoon he could probably finish the script, and The Marvellous Marriage would soon be a reality, literally and figuratively. 

Heading out the dining room she paused at the bottom of the stairs, hand on the pillar of the bannister as she smiled back to him again. He _had_ listened. He had waited. Maybe there was some good in him, if only she could find it.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay this is it! Its a long one, but it is officially the final chapter. Enjoy!
> 
> PS I use the 'strange place' and 'strange' quite a lot, but its on purpose, like an on-going chapter theme like tends to happen in the books (just incase you thought I misplaced my thesaurus or something using it a lot!)

The Baudelaire siblings found themselves in a strange place. It wasn’t the strange place they had found themselves living in, or that it was strange being allowed in the library, with the tattered volumes Klaus was painstakingly trying to piece back together, loose pages scattered all over the room, unloved. It the tense silence between the older Baudelaire’s that was the strange place they found themselves in. It wasn’t so much that they had argued, or was waiting for the other to say sorry, as is so often the case in sibling disagreements, but that there was questions Klaus needed to ask, that Violet _knew_ he wanted to ask, but neither were willing to start. They both glanced at each other silently, then at Sunny. They shouldn't have the discussion in front of her, that much had been acknowledged. 

After Klaus had managed to piece together the remains of nearly 2 books, and after Sunny and chewed her way through the ropes holding up the dusty curtains, which came to a flood on the floor as they dropped in a cloud of dust, making the Baudelaires cough and cover their mouths, Violet put her cleaning cloth down and marched over to her brother. “We need to talk.” 

“I know, I’ve been thinking that all afternoon,” He replied, looking for page 73 so he could slide a newly found page into place. They both glanced again at Sunny who was tying off the rope into useful lengths. “Maybe if we told her to cover her ears?” 

“I have an idea,” Violet said, going over to where Sunny sat and ripping off some chunks of curtain and bundling them up to tuck under her bonnet. 

“Peliopa?” said Sunny with a frown. Violet tied the strings of her sisters bonnet back under her chin to secure the ear muffs in place. 

“I know it looks silly, but its just for a little bit. Klaus and I need to talk, is that okay?” The smallest Baudelaire nodded and gave a thumbs up, content to keep chewing her rope. As she returned to Klaus, she sat him down on the reading bench and folded her hands somewhat awkwardly in her lap. How much was she willing to explain? The whole truth was, well, difficult to understand herself. So having to lay out the events of the last few days to Klaus would lead to yet more questions that truly, as much as she self analysed she couldn't yet answer. “What you saw, earlier with Count Olaf.” 

“You were undressed, Violet,” Klaus pushed his glasses up his nose. “You told me to walk away…” He trailed off, putting his hand over his sisters trembling ones. “Leaving you with him, when you were like that, it made me feel powerless, and guilty. Anything could have happened to you and I walked away!” 

“I’m sorry Klaus, I’m so, sorry,” She whined, shuffling closer to her brother. “I don't even know how it happened. Its just … the last few weeks Count Olaf has been, focusing on me and … stroking my hair … I mean you’ve seen it,” She urged him to understand. For that was where it had started. Count Olaf had used Violet as a mean to control all of them, to humiliate them and divide them. Hitting Klaus is one thing, but a gentle hand to her shoulder, or a stroke of the hair was far more powerful in meaning and he had capitalised on that. A well placed threat to a girl, _a young woman_ of her age and features would have far greater impact. What Violet could not explain, to herself or even less so to her brother, was how his touch had effected her. 

“Yes,” Klaus acknowledged. “He does do that.” 

“He pretends like its fatherly but its not. Then he played that game the other day forcing me to sleep in his bed. So I played on that attention, when we asked him for money and it worked. But this is why he hit me. He thought I was teasing him, he was, hurt,” She explained, gratified that she was telling him the whole truth to at least part of it. There was a guilt at keeping the other parts from him, but it was too intimate. Too precious. Violet barely spoke the words to herself, for she didn't want it to be wrong, and couldn't silence the nagging doubt that it was. 

“Count Olaf was hurt because you pretended to like him?” Klaus clarified, looking across the room for a moment, thinking. It sounded plausible, he had seen for himself the way Olaf gave in to her big brown eyes and given her the money, when he had repeatedly _and firmly_ said he would do nothing of the sort. He was an insecure and volatile man; making the position his sister found herself in, to be the subject of his affections, a dangerous one. 

“Yes. And when I tried to convince him to return the dresses it just, all came to a head,” Violet flapped her arms, making the pale blue dress flutter as she shook her head at herself defeatedly. “I was fed up of it. I thought, if I did what he wanted then perhaps he would leave me alone. Leave us alone.” 

“What did he want?” 

Violet fiddled with the yellow belt around her waist. “To change into the dress like he had asked previously, but to do it there, so he could watch.” 

“Thats awful…,” Klaus growled, standing and pacing frustratedly. “Awful!” He repeated even more frustratedly. “I can’t believe you didn't tell me this was going on!” He was furious she had tried to deal with his on her own instead of trusting him earlier. He might only be 12 but he was well-read and could have helped come up with a solution, like they always did together. In trying to be grown up, Violet had inadvertently encouraged Count Olaf’s attention resulting in the naked scene he saw earlier. Thinking of how freely Olafs hands roamed over her made him want to run and hurl expletives at Count Olaf right now. Attack him even. Though he was not that sort of boy to use his fists for anything, and Count Olaf was not an evenly matched opponent, the idea of such a physical response made him feel better.  

“I’ve already said I’m sorry.” She flicked her hair back over her shoulders and leant against the bookshelf, watching her brother pacing back and for as he mulled it over. “But telling you about his behaviour wouldn't have changed anything.”   

Klaus paused his well trodden back-and-for path in front of her, to look, though he almost couldn't as he asked, “Did he, try anything else?”

 _He relieved himself under the table,_ she thought, chewing the inside of her cheek remembering the deal she had struck with him. “No. He didn't hurt me,” She stated truthfully. “If he wanted to, he would have done it when I was in bed all night in that silly little nightdress.”   

Klaus sighed, flopping back onto the bench next to his sister with a nod. “I suppose thats true.” They sat quietly for a few minutes, both thinking their own versions of the same thoughts; constructing plans in their mind of how to protect the other, of their situation and escaping, of the prospect of living here until adulthood.  

“Are we okay?” Violet said softly, questioning her brother with the thought that most plagued her.

He smiled, and wrapped his arms around his sister. “Of course,” He murmured as they hugged. “We’re family. No matter what.”

“No matter what,” She said, easing back and smiling at her brother. 

 

————————

 

They made good progress on the library until dinner time, feeling this task at least had the potential of something positive at the end of it. If they cleaned well enough, and Klaus used his knowledge of library science to put the books back in order, it could become somewhere they would enjoy to spend their time. So when the Hook Handed Man retrieved them and sent them to make dinner, the three Baudelaires felt a touch of sadness to leave their library. However they were both intrigued to see Count Olaf, after he had left them alone all afternoon - a much needed reprieve to be sure. 

What had been doing that kept him so busy? 

The siblings made creamed roast chicken and served it to Count Olaf and his troupe without much of a rebuke, making them even more concerned. Where was the summary of complaining? When they ate together in the kitchen, Sunny sticking her finger in the saucepan to get extra sauce, Violet had almost forgotten what was happening tonight. 

She had agreed to go to bed with Olaf. 

The thought made her head swim, and her thighs wet. Violet glanced at Klaus as he scooped at the sauce with his fork, rubbing a piece of chicken in it and eating it merrily, hoping he didn't notice her blushing. 

Violet hopped off the bar stool and went back into the dining room to see if they were finished, and dutifully collected the plates from The Bald Man and the Henchperson of Indeterminate Gender, who had finished first. “Violet,” She heard Olaf’s voice call her as she deposited the plates and cutlery on the kitchen island. Her eyes flashed anxiously to Klaus, who paused mid-chicken to look up too. She turned back towards the dining room and stood herself near Olaf’s chair. 

“Yes?” She asked, her voice as gentle and polite as she could muster. 

He sighed, putting his elbow on the arm of his chair to beckon her closer. She stepped a few steps forward. Closer still, he beckoned. She bunched her lips and stepped forwards again, the front of her thighs now pressing on the arm of his chair. Olaf reached up and slunk his hand under her hair around the back of her neck to make her bend over. “Red or white, my pet?” 

Violet blinked a little, keeping her hands tucked behind her back. “For what?” 

Olaf brought his face closer to hers, whispering in her ear. “For tonight.” 

She felt his fingers grazing the edge of her dress, tickling her thigh. She gasped lightly, hoping it hadn’t been audible. _Fuck,_ how did he do that? She cursed her body for responding with such desire to his teasing. “White,” She muttered, reaching for Olaf’s plate. Her feet parted slightly, and he chuckled to himself as he felt her legs move apart. He could reach his fingers between her legs now, if so wanted, only at the height of her knees, but he could work with that. He flicked his gaze up to her, resting his chin in his other hand. “Ooh, the anticipation,” he murmured with a wicked grin. 

Violet knocked his hand away and took the plate, turning away quickly. “They’re done,” Violet, dropping the plate carelessly on to the counter and put her hands on her hips. “We can clean in the morning. C’mon I don't know about you but I’ve done enough cleaning for today.” She decided. She didn't want to be around Olaf if he was going to antagonise things, or use his theatre troupe to concoct some ritual humiliation for them seeing as they'd had a quiet afternoon. 

Sunny punched her little fist in the air. “Har-har!” She said, which actually was meant to be “Here here, I’m done with cleaning.” She held her arms out and Violet picked her up, resting the infant on her hip. 

The sisters walked toward the stairs, Klaus leaving his washing up and drying his hands on a dish-rag following after them. He checked into the dining room, his eyes meetings Olaf’s jet black ones, who was watching them go with a threatening expression. He drank his wine and sat forward, engaging in conversation then with the Hook-handed Man, whispering behind his hand making Klaus suspicious. 

Taking the opportunity though to join his sisters while Olaf wasn’t looking, Klaus hurried out to the stairs and they all climbed the two floors to their shared attic room. “Did you see that? He just let us leave?” Klaus said, as he shut their bedroom door. 

Violet set Sunny down on the bed, and started hooking up the hammocks for the night. “Maybe he doesn’t want to torment us anymore,” Violet said with false hope.

Sunny shot her sister a look. “Pech,” She huffed, meaning here “As if.” 

“Its okay to hope, even in a hopeless situation,” Klaus informed his younger sister, sitting next to her on the bed and helping arrange everything. “Can you look in the box for her romper?” Klaus said, pointing to the refrigerator box they had procured as a wardrobe. Violet had pierced holes either side and fed a pole through it, so they could in time, hang things up. That would require wire for coat hangers however, or when they had the time, checking every other bedrooms and wardrobe for proper hangers. 

Violet nodded, smiling as she went to her new invention and picked one of the two new romper-sleep suit combinations Klaus had purchased earlier that day. “Here.” 

“Thanks.” 

The siblings busied themselves putting Sunny to bed, telling her a wondrous story about female pirates and their thrill seeking adventures, full of gold coins and treasure chests and plenty of rocks. Violet always made sure to weave plenty of chewable objects into the story, to keep her sisters attention. 

Neither of them wanted to stay up much longer, and they were limited as to what they could do once Sunny was asleep, so decided for an early night themselves. Violet was glad of it, for she knew she would have to get up again later, sneak out and give in to something dark and hidden at the back of her mind. Once in their respective hammocks, Klaus fell asleep quickly, of which Violet was glad, but she could do nothing but lie awake and stare at the roof tiles counting them one by one. There was no point in closing her eyes, for sleep would not come to her when her mind was so busy and distracted, her heart drumming in her chest. She would guess her pulse to be way above resting rate. 

Eventually, she swung her legs out of her hammock and tested the floor for squeaking boards. Glancing at both her siblings, and out of the window _again,_ to check it was truly dark, she got to her feet, and snuck out the door. _Was she really going to do this_? She thought, for probably the hundredth time. Did she want to? _Yes,_ was the answer to that. But there was more to worry about than just her blossoming sexual desires. This wasn’t just anyone, not that Violet would have been likely in her previous life to have sex with _just anyone;_ but she knew there would be no other situation that this, her wilful approaching of an older man, her Guardian no less, could possibly occur. She likened it to sailors, cast adrift and finding themselves and marooned for months would eat all manner of seafood even if they had been vegetarians before. 

There was only a particular sort of situation, where a particular sort of sexual engagement, might come to pass. And this was it.

Violet turned the handle of Count Olaf’s bedroom, the anticipation and adrenaline making her tremble. There was a mellow glow around the room, a burnt ochre orange, she decided, as she opened the door and slowly stepped inside. Olaf was standing by the window, the curtains open as he surveyed the City in darkness. One hand rested in his bed-robe pocket, the other curled around a glass stem, he turned only his head when he looked to confirm who it was. He did a small huff, then turned back to the window, leaning momentarily to look closer at something. “I’m surprised you came.” 

Violet shut the bedroom door behind her, her fingers pausing hesitantly over the key, then turned it locking the door. “We made a deal,” Violet said quietly, sliding the key out and squeezing it tight in her palm as she approached him. 

He held his hand out flat, and waited. Violet took a deep breath, her chest tight and nervous making her feel like she couldn't get a full breath in at all. She placed the key on his hand, twitching as he closed his fist around it quickly and removed it from sight. She felt a tug in her belly, something tightening making her hips angle just slightly, and glanced to the door. Putting herself here felt so adventurous, dangerous, _exciting_. 

Olaf finished his glass of wine in a large mouthful, and wandered barefoot over to the bedside where there were candles lit, that bathed the room so nicely in their dim glow. There was two bottles of white wine, and two glasses, one already uncorked and drained to about 3/4 full where he had started already. He filled both glasses generously, and turned with a sly smile passing one to Violet. “Trust me, it’ll be easier if you drink.” 

Violet didn't want to trust him, but she knew the cause and effect of wine, and decided he was probably right. “Thanks,’ She said quietly, sitting on the edge of the bed with the wine in her lap. He stared at her with wide forceful looking eyes. She lifted her wine to her lips, drinking it slowly, glad of the warmth that exploded in her belly.  

“You left the dress on,” He said, stroking the material over her leg gently, reverently. She took another mouthful of wine and pressed her legs together slightly. He didn't seem to be teasing her on purpose this time, but still it worked on her. 

“I know you like it,” She replied, her voice so quiet she could barely hear it herself. It seemed a strange place to be, sitting on Olaf’s bed talking, drinking wine, both knowing what was coming. It took the fear out of it, knowing she had come here herself. Knowing what she had agreed to. Was he nervous? She wondered, he seemed oddly calm; less the uncontrollable urges he had this morning that had him nearly force it upon her. 

His touch reached the hem of the skirt and tucked his fingers inside tugging the material seamlessly right up to her hip in a single movement. Violet felt her breath hitch at his dauntless unconstrained behaviour. “Hmm. What a thoughtful Orphan.” He played with the frills on her underwear and then shoved his fingers under the material without warning finding her folds already damp. “Though a pointless consideration seeing as you’re only going to be taking it off in a minute.” 

Violets wine spilt as her hands flew either side of her, gasping at the sudden contact. “Oh!” She panted “… okay thats …!” She didn't know how to say _okay you're getting right down to it then_ so just settled for a stream of unsteady words tripping from her lips. She hurriedly drank what was left of her wine and would’ve gone for some more, but his fingers were roaming around her and pushing inside with the freedom they had never been granted before, but he settled for his thumb on her clit drawing lazy circles there.

It felt good, allowing herself to feel it without the knife at her throat. 

How could he sit so still, drink his wine and one hand and do this to her with the other? It confused Violet immensely, but trying to work out the co-ordination of it fell away from her mind as she felt the constant rubbing motion build something beautiful inside her. “Should I ..?” She didn't really know what she was saying, her eyes shutting as her chin lowered to her chest and she focused on the arousal between her legs. _Oh god it was good, it was so good …_  

“Lie back,” He muttered, not looking at her as he continued working her, her legs dangling over the bed literally just flopping back on to the bed from where she had sat. He sipped his wine, keeping himself collected. It was not what she would expect of him, and therefore the best way to play it. Olaf needed her relaxed, supple, and the way to do this was to put her at ease. Give her what she was used to, what she felt was familiar and comfortable with, and she would be far more willing a companion. He gulped his wine at the knot forming in his groin, he had to get going with this. He kept his focus on her as he quickly plonked his glass on the side of the bed with small clink, turning then and kneeling down pulling hers apart and making swift work of her underwear, pulling it under and off her hips, down her legs to her ankles and off her feet. 

Violet sat up, startled and bewildered. “What are you doing?” She breathed, she had been guiltily enjoying his touch and giving in to the feeling of it when the stop had seemed abrupt. “Why are you, on the floor?” She felt suddenly self- conscious, sitting up and seeing herself with her dress up round her hips and the shimmering way the wetness between her legs caught the light. What was she doing here? She pressed her hands into the mattress as anxiety rose in her chest. “I’m not sure if …” What if Klaus saw her like this? Violet covered her mouth with her hand, Olafs hands large enough to pretty much take her thighs and drastically move them apart. His wild spikes of hair tickled her bare legs and she shook at the sensation. 

He peered up from between her legs, his shoulders slumping as he rolled his eyes. “For Gods sake drink the wine!” He growled, snatching her glass and leaning to fill it up thrusting it back at her. “Drink it,” He ordered, his voice harsh and demanding. Her chest heaved, sensing for the first time his mask of control was slipping. She didn't know what she wanted, did she want to stop? She didn't want to admit she was scared. She nodded, tiny movements barely a nod at all as she put the glass to her lips and drank down the whole glass this time, as though chugging her favourite fruit juice straight from the carton. “Now lie, down.” 

The hazy warmth from the wine went straight to her head and she was feeling her panic dissipate, her brain dulling somewhat as her body came alive. It was if she could feel everything more purely, without her worrying mind stopping her. She felt the bristles of his long sideburns against her skin and she still didn't understand what she was doing here, but she quickly forgot about the weirdness when she felt something else, hot and slippery wet in her centre, on her clit. Violet groaned at the sensation, her knees buckling up as she felt her muscles tighten, making her pant. “What …?” she breathed, panting and staring at the ceiling. 

Olaf swirled his tongue over her clit and down to her centre, pressing his face into the giddying sweet scent of her, getting drunk on it as he expertly worked his tongue around her. He lifted one of her legs and hooked it over his shoulder as he hungered for more, licking and sucking and nipping her soft centre, the fluff on his chin smearing her wetness around as he lapped his tongue over and over her clit, making her cry out with the sudden intensity. He smiled to himself, she would be broken after this, and he could enjoy her uninhibited. He felt inside her confirming how she tightened, and nudged the tip of his finger as high as he could reach, just enough to push her over into an orgasm as she arched her back and moaned shamefully, clutching the bedsheets as she came. 

A slow, deep laugh vibrated from between her legs as he emerged, rubbing his hand over his mouth and chin. Violet panted through blurry eyes, her body limp and sated, barely paying attention to Olaf undressing. It was a peculiar sort of calm that came after, and she was glad to feel nothing but this, think nothing but this. Not about the fire, or how much she missed her parents, or what ever she would do to look after her siblings for the rest of her life. Letting it all go and give in to something, _someone_ else, was cathartic and grounding. 

“Aren’t you hot Orphan?” Olaf said, filing his wine glass in nothing but - well, nothing. He was entirely undressed and sipping wine with one hand on his hip watching how his plan was unfolding nicely. She looked dazed and he had no doubt she was ready, in all senses of the word. 

Violet focused her eyes and then blinked, quickly turning her head. That was _too much_ to see in one go, she thought, flushing and swallowing as she sat up. “Right..,” She murmured, starting to unbutton her dress. 

His foot tapped impatiently, drinking and watching her undress. “You're lucky you get to experience this for the first time with _me._  One so, talented and handsome,” Olaf grinned to himself, an outstretched theatrical wave happening almost by itself. He was so full of his own importance that it had completely the opposite effect of impressing her. In fact, it was too much _Olaf_ … too much his daytime ridiculousness that what was really happening, all came flooding back to her. Her fingers paused, head bowed still. What was she going to do? She was still _mostly_ dressed, her legs felt a little shaky to get up and run. It wasn’t right that she had to make a deal, had to agree to stop him doing something worse. Was that the same as wanting it? She squeezed her eyes shut and folded her arms, tears pricking her eyes. 

He _wasn’t_ forcing her. There had been some dubious moments but for all intents and purposes, she had decided each time. She winced, admitting it to herself, finally. 

She _wanted_ to fuck him. She _wanted_ him to do it. 

She needed to know what it was all those songs went on about, all those books and fairytales. Valentines day cards and wedding vows and relationships and adulthood; all those things were based around the same thing, sex. 

Wiping her eyes before any tears fell, she took the ribbon she always kept on her person, and looped it under her hair, tying it up and out of the way. “You do it.” 

Olaf raised his eyebrow, and downed the rest of his wine not needing another invitation. He unpicked the buttons down her waist and grabbed at the belt loosening it quickly. “Arms up.” He snapped, no doubt that she would do just that and he lifted the dress off her body and arms, reaching behind her to unhook her bra and grabbed it straight off her chest, pushing her back onto her back. She was shocked by the intensity of his motions, but his whole demeanour made her burn, as if him finally proving how he wanted her, made her feel utterly more the woman she was in her head. He shifted himself between her legs and used his knees to nudge her legs apart, holding over her with a ferocious hunger, staring down at her. 

Her lower lip trembled, feeling his hand between her legs, then something hard and round pushing at her centre. She held her breath, touching her hands to his chest. “Don’t… “ Olaf’s jaw hardened, thinking she was about to stop him. “Don’t hurt me…,” She whispered, “I know it’s going to, a bit, maybe, I don’t know but -“

He let his eyes shut, thankful for the slight pause being for this, and not for her changing her mind. Olaf took his weight on one arm to cup her cheek, brushing his thumb over her cheekbone softly. “I can’t make it not hurt,” He said plainly. She whimpered, but he made her focus on him. “But you’re as relaxed as you can be. After an orgasm you’re … slippery and… supple and -“ He rolls his eyes at the lack of eloquence. “Its just easier.” 

Violet nodded, taking a shaky breath in and out. “Okay.”

Olaf reached between their legs and positioned himself again, his arm snapping back so he held himself up as he pushed into her, eager to finally, _finally_ get on with it. Her breath staggered into her chest as she groaned, feeling like he was pushing so hard her hips would snap apart, and pulled her legs as wide as she could to try and lessen the pain. He slowed down, but kept pushing, pushing his hips down as slow as she needed until he was buried right inside her, and he too groaned. She was still so tight, but she took him, and he laughed to himself and the wonder and absurdity of it. The girl actually did it. _God it was wonderful_. He couldn't remember the last time he had had sex.  

She slowly exhaled and nodded, getting used to the feeling of being so full. It was odd how they fitted together, men and women and _this._ He sneered at her. This is what he had been waiting for. Silly little Orphan. He drew back halfway and thrust into her again, grunting a little at the effort, building up the swing of his hips as he fucked her. 

Violet kept her hands on his chest, sometimes his shoulders, wincing and twisting as one stroke was deeper or one harder. Her hips ached and burned and he wasn’t slowing, she panted and curled her shoulders against him, wanting to bite and scratch and claw him. It was uncomfortable, and not like the things he had done to her before. But it was the first time, _the only time_ , she reminded herself, so it was bound to be full of unfamiliar things. The more he thrust in and out, the more she became used to it, and she could let the tension go a bit. 

He felt her body give as she relaxed and he sped up, his hand cupping her cheek again grabbing under her jaw and pulling her to him, kissing her hard. His hooked nose pressed into her cheek and his tuft of beard scratched at her chest as they kissed but she was consumed by the feeling of him building inside her, she knew he was nearly there and he growled through the kisses as his thrusts became more insistent, desperate, she pushed him away to break the kiss to moan tearfully at the pain. He didn't stop, and she was about to beg him to, her nails digging into his skin as she cried out. Olaf groaned as he held the thrust deep, high and hard as he came, doing just a couple more as he spent himself inside her, panting. Everything went slowly slack and he hung his head, leaning down to kiss her chest, nuzzling peculiarly at her breasts as his arms gave way and he lay down, his cock slipping out as he rested on top of her. 

Violets arms went limp, dropping them away, not wanting to feel like she had her arms around him. He panted hotly against her skin. Olaf didn't say anything, and she was glad of it.

Had that just really happened? She could feel his cum oozing between her legs. It was a dark and dangerous thing to give in to, she concluded. But it was the most daring and exciting thing she had ever done. 

Violet caught a tired smile on her lips. She didn't regret it. 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all! Its done, its finally done and I won't add any sneaky chapters on you which I have done a lot ... I hope you're all as satisfied as these two are. 
> 
> Thank you to all the other Violaf shippers out there that got this into my head. <3 
> 
> Much love.


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